Renascence: Book 1
by OneLastBird
Summary: 18 years later, the man once known as Snape is mysteriously resurrected in an unexpected form . Trapped in an 11 year old's body, he is forced to reattend Hogwarts with the children of the people he gave his life to protect, but not all is as it seems...
1. The Centaur's Warning

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or its wonderful characters, and I'm only writing this for fun.**

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_When he woke he was laying face down on the ground, if it could be called that. He realized that it was neither hard nor soft, warm nor cold. Turning his head to one side he slowly opened his eyes. In a moment of panic he thought they weren't able to focus, until he realized that there was nothing to focus on; no sound, no smell, nothing but a thick mist that hung lazily about. Nothing to fear._

_ If felt so good after all the chaos, horror, and pain that lead up to this point that he closed his eyes once more, content to lay there forever._

_ Alas it wasn't to be._

_ He wasn't alone. Even with his eyes closed he could sense someone was standing over him and he tensed, too afraid to look up and relieve the suspense. _

_ Finally a voice cut through his panic. _

_ "You don't fool me, Sev. I know you're awake."_

_ He recognized her soft, playful tones at the first syllable. His eyes shot open as wide as they could go and he tried to get up too quickly, lost his bearings, flopped back down, and settled for sitting. The sight of the beautiful young woman to whom the voice belonged froze him more effectively than the strongest body-bind._

_ "Lily..." he breathed._

_ Her smile was full of understanding and kindness. "Hello Severus," she said. He didn't respond. He continued to stare at her, his face white with shock and his mouth set in a thin line. Growing concerned, Lily crouched to his level. "Are you alright? You're trembling."_

_ Suddenly he noticed her proximity and scooted away, nearly getting tangled in his robes in the process. Finally he managed to stand._

_ "Are you afraid of me?" Lily asked with a mix of hurt and amusement._

_ "You can not be real," Severus coldly asserted. Now that he was getting over his initial shock, his usual serious demeanor was returning. "I don't know what you are - if you're an illusion, or something else - but I refuse to be played by some petty chimera."_

_ "Oh Sev," she sighed. Her eyes met his, green to black._

_ Even though she was smiling, he could easily read into some deep sadness she seemed to carry._

_ He almost gave in, and realizing that made him shudder. Even as he tried to hold himself with confidence, he could feel panic flowing like ice through his veins. He was more terrified of this apparition than he had ever been of Voldemort. After all, nothing the Dark Lord could say or do truly mattered to him, but Lily... Lily was the only thing he had ever cared about, and even if she wasn't real, she had the power to harm him in ways that his enemies could only dream of._

_ He tore his gaze away from her, his head lowered and turned to the side, face hidden behind the sheet of his greasy black hair._

_ He was barely aware when she started speaking again. "I won't try to convince you that I'm real, or that you're safe. All I can tell you is that you can't get rid of me unless you let me go, and we both know that's not going to happen."_

_ "Why are you here?" Severus's voice was hoarse._

_ Her smile was back again. "I've always been here," she said. "I've been waiting for you."_

_ His brow scrunched up with confusion, which made her laugh. It was a soft and gentle sound, with not an ounce of cruelty in it. "Do you remember how you got here?"_

_ His gaze grew distant as he strained to recall, then he gasped and his hand flew up to his neck where there should have been a deep wound, burning with venom and weeping blood. Nothing. His skin was unmarked._

_ "Am I...?" he couldn't finish._

_ "I'm afraid so." Though she didn't look the least bit grave about it. In fact she was positively beaming._

_ He reeled and started staggering away. "No... no you're lying. I can't be... I have to find Potter... I have to..."_

_ Lily stepped forward and took his arm to keep him for keeling over. "Sev," she said gently, "Sev, it's okay. Look at me! Harry found you. You gave him your memories, and he's already seen them. He knows what he has to do. It's okay."_

_ A hand clutching his heart, he gaped at her as through he had never seen her before. "It's over?" _

_ "For you? Yes. Your part's done. You can rest now." She looked at him with concern, taking in how pale and ill he seemed. "And you look like you need it! Why don't we sit down?"_

_ Breathing hard, he nodded dumbly and went limp. His body was suddenly flooded with an absolute relief he had never once experienced in life, and it compelled him not just to sit, but to sag to the ground and lay down once more. He turned his head to Lily when he heard her laughter. _

_ "I'm sorry for stressing you like that," she said. "After awhile you forget how hard it is to be alive."_

_ He gave her a weak smile in return. His arms and legs spread out, he closed his eyes and let the wonderful feeling of complete freedom wash over him._

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18 Years Later

The trees of the Forbidden Forest were laden with snow from a good blizzard that blew in just before the holidays. The deep chill settling in since then meant that even the sun shining down from a cloudless sky could do nothing to free the boughs of their new white coats. Not a living thing stirred that night. Only death was more peaceful. The moon was little more than a waning sliver, but still managed to light up the pale world below, and around it the heavens opened up, a sparkling universe speaking in an old and mysterious tongue that no human could decipher.

It was the perfect night for stargazing.

Alone in a glade, a blond haired centaur had his blue eyes turned upward. His ears were alert to the sounds of the forest, but he had little fear of dangerous creatures happening upon him. Anything with half a brain knew better than to attack one of his kind.

A shooting star flashed through the atmosphere, causing him to frown and flick his tail in agitation. At the crunching of snow nearby he turned in time to see another centaur, this bearing a rich chestnut coloration an the lines of an age much greater than his own, emerged from the trees.

'Good evening, Firenze,' said the newcomer.

'Ronan,' he acknowledged returning his gaze to the stars.

Ronan joined him in his scrutinization of the heavens, but after several minutes asked, 'Why are you not at your school? I thought the young ones were about to return from their break.'

With another flick of the tail, Firenze answered, 'They are celebrating the renewal of their calendar. They call it _New Years Eve_.'

'Odd...'

'...Indeed. I did not feel like joining the festivities.'

Ronan looked at his temporary companion, stomping one front hoof, and then the other. 'So you come out here and risk the wrath of Bane and the others? That is foolish Firenze. You can see the stars just as well from your castle.'

'No. The torches pollute their light, and on a night like this...'

With a snort Ronan turned his head upwards once more. 'They are exceptionally bright, especially Mars.'

Firenze shifted his weight at that. His eyes flickered momentarily to his elder. 'Mars is not the only one that speaks.' He paused to stare at the glittering snow. 'They are waiting for something. The return of Saturn?'

The chestnut centaur shook himself uncomfortably and said, 'That is soon. Only a few days from now.'

Firenze smiled and nodded. 'Thank you, Ronan.' He turned and trotted away in the direction of Hogwarts castle.

Ronan watched him impassively. Just before the young blond slipped into the trees, he called, 'You should not tell the Wizards. It is not your place.'

Firenze continued and did not turn, but Ronan was certain he heard the words, 'If not I, than who else?'

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The next morning, the Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry awoke much later than was custom feeling groggy and congested. Perhaps she had a little more to drink the night before than was sensible? Yet, in these times of peace there was little to be worried about, and she so seldom let her hair down - as the saying went - that she felt she deserved the occasional night of fun.

That being said, though not quite hung over she did feel a good headache potion was in order.

Getting up was a delicate and slightly painful operation to her aging body. After wrapping her night robe about herself, she shuffled over to the fireplace and took a pinch of floo powder from the childishly decorated clay pot her daughter had made for her many hears before. After tossing it into the fire, she stepped into the now discolored flames and said, 'Headmaster's Office.'

Stepping out of the floo on the other end, she managed to look graceful despite the lurching sensation in her stomach that she hadn't felt since her childhood. Spelling the soot away with a wave of her wand, she strode across the circular room to a cabinet that she kept fully stocked with potions.

It took her a moment to locate the one she needed, and after raising it in a mock toast to the sleeping portrait of a particular past Headmaster she said, 'Good morning Albus, and Happy New Year.' With that, she downed the potion.

The spicy flavor and slimy texture caused her to close her eyes and shudder, but instantly her headache vanished and she felt about twenty years younger.

When she reopened her eyes, it was to find that Dumbledor's portrait was smiling at her, eyes a-twinkle. 'Happy New Year to you as well, Minerva,' he said. 'And by the way, you had an interesting visiter last night. When you did not return after the party I advised him to leave a note on your desk.'

Quizzically she turned, and sure enough there was a neatly folded piece of paper lying on top of the school budget she had been working on.

After tapping it with her wand to determine it held no threatening magic she picked it up and unfolded it. She knew who it was from the moment it touched her fingers. There was magic alright, but a sort she had grown familiar with over the years, and it simply there to insure she was the only one to read what it had to say.

Smiling, she shook her head fondly at the direct and vague words.

_Dear Professor McGonagall_

_The stars were very bright last night. They spoke of conflict. Something thought ended long ago shall begin again in nine days time, and a Ruler thought lost shall found before the passing of the Bull. These events will greatly effect the school for better and for worse, so be on your guard._

_P.S._

_I hope you and the students enjoyed your celebration._

_Firenze._


	2. Lost to Life

His eyelids fluttered and cracked open enough that he could peer through his lashes. The faint blue light swirled in his vision like a windswept fog that made his stomach clench and his head pound. Groaning, he closed his eyes again and tried to lift an arm and drape it over his face. He found this was impossible. As far as he could tell, his limbs had turned to lead and were now too heavy for him to move.

There was a lilt in his chest that made his heart feebly attempt to race. Was that fear? He wasn't sure. It had been so long since he felt anything other than peaceful contentment. There it was again, this time accompanied by a wrenching, disgusting ache of a notion that he did not belong here. He didn't belong in this dark room, or on this cold, hard surface, but more than anything, he didn't belong in a living body at all.

He whimpered and tried to move again. Where was Lily? He wanted Lily. Yet he knew instinctively that she was beyond his reach in this place.

Starting to become dizzy and delirious from his panic, he forced himself to take slow breaths that calmed him somewhat. Too weak to move, and too ill to see, he instead turned inwards to try and figure out what was happening.

He remembered being alone with Lily in a place that was empty and full at the same time, and then looking up to find himself in King's Cross Station. Dumbledor was there, as well as Harry Potter, but he and Lily stayed away and Potter left without ever seeing them. They approached Albus then and had the entire situation finally explained. Though his mind was too muddled to remember everything that was said, something trickled forward with a twinge of significance.

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_'I am glad to see you are looking so... intact,' said Albus. 'I dare-say more than myself.'_

_ 'What do you mean?' _

_ The question was waved away as the old wizard said, 'It is impossible to explain. You're new here, Severus. In time you will understand.' Then his smile faltered and sadness robbed the light from his blue eyes. 'I am truly sorry, my friend, for everything I have put you through, and that this is the only reward for all your bravery. I had intended for you to inherit my wand, or at least live and have a life of your own. I know you would have become something astounding.' He reached his hand out to give Severus' shoulder a fatherly pat, but paused in the gesture. He met the younger man's eyes with a calculating look that left Severus feeling unsettled. 'How... interesting. Perhaps...' his smile returned, 'perhaps you will have that chance after all.'_

_ 'Dumbledore?'_

_ Lily stepped forward and said, 'I feel it too, but what does it mean?'_

_ 'What does what mean?' Severus sneered in frustration._

_ 'I'm not really sure, my boy.' Albus' eyes moved down and up his body in a quick appraisal. 'It would seem that, though your body is most certainly dead, you remain tied to life. It's almost as though you possess a horcrux.'_

_ His eyes widened and he stepped back, disgusted. 'How dare you!' he spat. 'After everything I've done, how dare you accuse me of such a cowardly, loathsome...'_

_ He would have continued, but Lily placed a hand on his arm and said, 'Calm down, Sev.'_

_ Albus was still smiling and looked quite amused. 'Forgive me. I never meant to imply you would create such a thing, only that there are similarities. Indeed, you are too untainted for that,' Severus' eyebrows rose in surprise at this statement, but he refrained from commenting. Dumbledor went on. 'This feels different. It is... deep. Much deeper then even Tom Riddle was able to delve.'_

_ Swallowing back some biting remarks about being compared to the Dark Lord, Severus asked, 'What is it, then? And what will become of me?'_

_ 'I do not know,' said Albus with a shake of his head. 'I fear I'm too young to have encountered something as archaic as this. Perhaps Nicolas has an idea, but no... he can't come here without a connection. As for what will happen. It is safe to say that you will remain here until the tether binding you is severed, or until someone finds a way to return you to life.'_

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He gasped and tried to sit up, but managed little more than to shift his head and moan in frustration. Someone, somehow managed to resurrect him. But who? And why?

A warm hand touching his face caused him to freeze and a thin, honeyed voice said, 'Be still child, and no harm will come to you.'

Tentatively he opened his eyes and a tall, crooked old woman swam into view. She had brittle, dark gray hair that looked like it was made of birds nests, and skin that was sallow and baggy. Her eyes were a watery blue and her nose was big and drooping. When she smiled, she showed all of her faded teeth in a way that brought to mind a twisted, female version of Gildaroy Lockheart.

'M'not...' Apparently his voice was as weak as everything else. He licked his lips and tried again. 'I'm not a child...'

She gently brushed some of his long, black hair out of his eyes. 'Oh, but you are. The little boy who kindly donated his blood has made sure of that.'

Little boy? Blood? Okay, now he was starting to panic. 'Who... who are...'

She silenced him by placing one long, jointy finger to his lips, then moved that hand to stroke his cheek. Her touch was hideously saccharine. It made his skin crawl and left him with the desperate need to scrub his face with lye soap. And that_ look_ she was giving him, like he was the last morsel of food left on Earth. 'My name is Helmina, but that's not important,' she said. 'What's important is _your_ name. Can you remember it?'

Could he? Ah yes. 'Severus Snape,' he said. He was please that his voice was getting stronger.

The strange woman grimaced. 'Snape?' She made a face as though the word was sour and said, 'I thought you would have abandoned that nasty muggle's name. Not that I have anything against muggles, but that one... _so_ unbecoming of such a heritage as yours. I don't know _what_ Eileen was thinking! Ah well, it can be rectified.'

She moved away before he could comment on that. When she came back into view she held a vial of green liquid he recognized as a common nutritional draught. 'Now drink this down child. We'll make you strong. So very strong.' She held his head and placed the vial to his lips.

He coughed and spluttered as he tried to resist, but it was either swallow or choke so he allowed the foul, grass flavored liquid to slide down his throat. As it hit his empty stomach, he moaned and closed his eyes to try and shut out the waves of nausea coursing through him. Then a second vial was at his lips and he didn't bother fighting this time. It burned on the way down and from the taste he figured it was a modified Pepper-up Potion designed to boost the immune system and speed recovery from fatigue. Finally the third liquid went down without fuss, but the moment he recognized the taste of Dreamless Sleep, he tried to choke it back up. Too late, and he was tenderly tugged into unconsciousness.


End file.
